lare
had dreamed of--he hastily assured himself that they were not lovers.
More than ever before he now felt infinite tenderness toward
her--compassion, sympathy--an overpowering impulse to seek her. He had
much to tell her. He could not think of any one in all the world who
would listen as she would listen. The red eyes glowering out of the
summer gloom did not daunt him; they suggested tyranny and insulting
suspicion, and he pitied her the more. He rode on past the tall cross of
the church-yard. A voice out of the silence startled him. A white figure
stood in the shadow of the church porch.

"Come here, Big Boy," she said. "I'm not a ghost. I'm only Clare. I've
been waiting for you."

He left his horse, and hurried to her.

"Waiting for me? I did not write. Have you second sight, little Clare?"

"No, only first news. This isn't one of the big cities where the crowds
rush by and do not notice each other. It's only a lonesome little place,
Harlan, and gossip travels fast. I heard you were home five minutes
after the stage was in. So I came here and waited."

He took both her hands between his broad palms, caressing them.

"And you knew I'd hurry to come across the long bridge? That makes me
happy, Clare, for you must have been thinking about me."

"I haven't many things to do these days except think," she returned,
wistfully. "You'll understand why I came down here. I'm not trying to
hide away from my father, and I know you are not afraid of him. But
lectures on the subject of not doing the things you don't have any idea
of doing are not to my taste, and I know they don't suit you. So we'll
sit here in peace and quietness, and you shall tell me all about it."

He turned his back on the two red eyes of the Kavanagh house, and sat
down on the step below her, and began his story, eagerly, volubly.

Once in a while he looked up at her, and she gave wise little nods to
show she understood. In relating the early episodes of his journey, he
ventured to leave out details. But she insisted that he give them.

"I want to know about the world--how they all look, and how they speak,
and what they do. I've been lonely all these weeks. I've been wondering
all the time what you were doing. Now I want it to seem that you've come
to take me with you, back through it all. I want it to seem just as
though I were travelling along with you--that will make me forget how
lonely I've been, waiting here on the edge of the big woods."